


Spilt Tea

by Punxutawney



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Old work, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-11
Updated: 2007-03-11
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punxutawney/pseuds/Punxutawney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Suresh finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilt Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Backing up stuff here. Written in 2007.

This is not really a surprise, not a big revelation, not that unexpected at all. More like finishing a puzzle, letting go of the last one of the pieces, looking at the finished picture; like solving a difficult mathematical equation, drawing the last lines, feeling somehow whole and proud of yourself. Yes, this is almost like that – except for the feeling of contentment that is nowhere to be felt right now. There's just an odd mixture of emptiness and disbelief and numbness bleeding into his veins, meeting the anger and the thirst for revenge that already live inside his bones. The screen of his laptop is suddenly bright, black letters melting away, and Mohinder stands up, wondering at his own, weird calmness, walks to the bathroom, and his body tries to throw up but he has eaten nothing for such a long time and he just dry heaves until he feels like choking and his coughing wakes Za– Sylar up, all faked concern and the scent of Mohinder's bed linens.

...

There's a fine but somehow dirty film between him and the world, it prevents him from connecting his realization with his emotions, and it is weird but he is grateful, grateful because he needs his sense now, he needs a plan. Plans consist of carefully defined actions, of rationality, and that is what he is good at. He needs to stare at the facts until he knows what to do. Zane, no, Sylar kisses the back of Mohinders neck softly and says he should maybe go back to bed if he really feels sick, he should sleep for another few hours, and does he need anything? There are normal things like carefully touching your lover's cheek and a hand on the back and looking a little bit worried, and the tenderness of it all is almost sick, now when Mohinder knows. He shakes his head, wiping his mouth and standing up, saying that it's alright, and he lets the other man stroke his hair and then he knows what to do.

...

It's a workable plan, but it's also vulnerable. There are too many what ifs and maybes for his liking, but it's the best he can come up with now. He doesn't know if Sylar's body is still human enough to give up without drugs so heavy he could never get hold of, with his miraculous, horrible genes that make him the way he is. Maybe he'll see right through Mohinder, maybe he _hears_ his lies because – and the thought almost makes him throw up again, the sight of the slaughtered woman only a few days ago. The emotions finally start to seep in, his hands might shake, and he is tired of playing dumb already, angry at himself for being so blind when it was actually clear from the beginning. There's a sudden flash of twisted joy through his heart when he sees that he was right and Sylar's eyes go unfocused. But there's tea all over the carpet and Mohinder knows that they will never touch each other again in the same way anymore.


End file.
